


Sanders Sides Sleeping Beauty (Or, Remy is a Vindictive Drama Queen and They're All So Stupid and Gay, My God)

by ouijadarling



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gay, M/M, Multi, Prinxiety - Freeform, Sympathetic Deceit, Trans Virgil, dukeceit, logicality - Freeform, nb remy, remile - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 08:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23468578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouijadarling/pseuds/ouijadarling
Summary: When Princess Victoria(Virgil) is cursed as a child by evil nonbinary sorcerer Remy, Patton and Logan step in as adopted dads. Everyone's gay, it's based off of Sleeping Beauty, and there's a happy ending(promise)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 45
Kudos: 67





	1. Next Time, Just Add the Heckin Foam, Please.

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy! I switched usernames due to some unexpected circumstances, but will operate off this account alone from now on!

Occasionally there were fairy tales, and then there were  _ fairy tales.  _ Once upon a time, a random citizen committed an act of sedition and treason by spying on his kingdom for a neighboring monarchy. He was going to get paid a lot, so naturally he did his job very well. (He wanted a heated toilet seat and a deep-soak tub for his master bathroom.) This act of sedition mostly consisted of him hanging very sneakily around local taverns, waiting for some nobles or members of the king’s cabinet to get absolutely wasted so he could collect state secrets. 

The most advantageous secret he had learned to date, was that the young king of XXXXXX was going to adopt a child that was otherwise unwanted, and raise it as his heir. The king was unmarried, so this was a loss to the nobles that were completely soused and hoping that the throne might pass to them. One particular earl that was particularly in his cups that night at the local  _ Starrbuckes _ was currently lamenting the ascension of a certain duke that was now the king’s advisor, and wishing someone would knock off the newly adopted young princess so that he might ascend the throne. 

That earl made the mistake of stumbling outside the  _ Starrbuckes _ to get some air, because at that point he was so heavily caffeinated his pupils were the size of dinner plates and it was rather difficult for him to see. So naturally he crashed into the other person exiting the tavern and made them spill their eleven-dollar espresso mocha with 17 flavor shots.

“You did  _ not  _ just make me spill my eleven-dollar espresso mocha with 17 flavor shots!” 

“Oh, I’m very sorry, Lord Sorcerer!” cried the earl. “I can buy you another eleven-dollar espresso mocha with 17 flavor shots! Please don’t kill me!”

“Oh, I won’t  _ kill _ you,” Remy said. They were feeling very magnanimous. “I’ll just turn you into a newt.” 

“Thank you, Lord Sorcerer,” the earl said. Then he frowned. “Wait, a ne-” Unfortunately God was no longer accepting prayers and the earl crawled away as a very nice chartreuse newt. He spent the next two years in the forest until he was flame-baked and devoured by a passing dragon who happened to be feeling rather peckish. 

At this point Remy decided to get another coffee, this time a nicely caffeinated hazelnut cappuccino (with the  _ foam, _ ) they told the barmaid. The barmaid had smiled and nodded and gotten them their drink. Remy took a sip and realized that there was no  _ foam.  _ Remy felt like murdering a serf or two. They took another sip and the bloodlust vanished. They decided to jaunt around town before heading back to the castle. Surely the king wouldn’t do anything drastic in their absence.

“I feel like doing something drastic, Lord Advisor!” the king announced. 

Lord Advisor Remus winced. “Normally I would say  _ absolutely, _ your majesty _ ,  _ but right now, are you sure it’s wise?” 

“What do you mean?” the king said irritably. He scratched his scales. “Of course it’s wise!”

“But I literally have no idea what you were even going to do,” Remus pointed out.

“Yeah, I was going to start a few wars. A few lives lost are acceptable to save the stock marke _ -tariff collection, I meant.” _

“Yes, sire, but you just adopted a  _ child _ . Perhaps focus on the young one first?”

“Remus, you’re right,” the king announced grandly. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” 

It was very common knowledge in the kingdom that the king and his advisor were  _ an item. _ The people concerned were still convinced that no one knew, when in fact the entire kingdom shipped them. 

Deceit slid as majestically as it was possible to slide majestically down a throne that was too tall for you even in high heels, and landed very regally. 

“Let’s go, Remus. We are going to visit my new child,” he said, and sauntered out of the throne room with his crown tastefully askew. 

The child in question, Virginia, was currently sitting very quietly in a pair of gold-embroidered overalls. She had refused to wear dresses. Deceit did not question her because occasionally the urge struck him to wear a very nice lime green hat and skirt. He came into the room. 

“Virginia!” he cried, throwing out his arms. “Give Daddy a hug.” Virginia glared at him. “How old are you again?” he asked her. 

“Erm, no one  _ knows,  _ your majesty,” her nurse told him. “But by the looks of it I’d say about two? She has teeth so maybe around then?” Deceit shrugged. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been a child; and so had no idea what children of any age were supposed to look like until they reached the teen years. 

“She’s perfect anyway,” he declared. “I’m throwing a small soirée for her royal ascension to the throne of princess. Perhaps two thousand people in attendance and some light refreshments. A seven-course feast, obviously.” He snapped his fingers. “Remus! Are you getting this?” 

“Of course, sire,” Remus said. He was busily scribbling in a notepad.

“And invite those fairies. They give nice gifts.”

“Yes, sire.” 

“Until tomorrow, then. Let’s say three days until the party?” Remus nodded in agreement.

“We need a name for the invites! Princess Virginia sounds disgustingly  _ formal.  _ Hmm, a good nickname  _ is  _ generally the first few syllables of a name...you know what, forget that.”

“That’s probably wise, sire.”

“And someone fetch me a blanket! Your royal majesty is cold!”

“I have a lighter right here, your majesty,” Remus suggested, whipping out a very nice silver engraved lighter. 

“Yeah, I can do without.” Deceit swept importantly out of the room. 

Remy wasn’t doing much. Mostly checking up on random villagers. And drinking coffee. A lot of coffee. They were also still very irked about their ruined coffee drink. So naturally they went to brood in their evil sorcerer lair and consult their pet professor which they had kidnapped to do scientific experiments with. They also occasionally got lonely. 

“Gurl!” Remy cried.“Have you heard the news? The king is throwing a party for his new daughter. It’s perfectly adorable, and I’m sure it will be absolutely SMASHING, don’t you agree?”

Doctor Picani nodded. “But we have to finish our latest project. Soon Experiment 626 will be ready to unleash upon the world!”

“Never mind that!” Remy interjected.

“But, you know, the party isn’t that important?” Emile pointed out. 

“Doctor, you are beginning to irk me. I am  _ irked,  _ and that will not do!” Remy swept out. “I shall have my revenge for one of my precious drinks being absolutely SLAUGHTERED!” 


	2. Gifts and....not so much gifts but curses

Three days passed relatively quickly. Deceit and Remus were swept up in preparations for what looked to be the kingdom’s gaudiest party. Finally, the day of reckoning was at hand, and everything was perfect.

“No, no, no! This is all  _ wrong!”  _ Deceit paced around the ballroom, waving his arms. “These are  _ not _ the flowers I ordered!” he yelled, pointing at the flowers he had ordered. “And the decor is far too  _ edgy  _ for my Virginia’s refined tastes!” 

“Sire,” Remus pointed out. “These  _ are  _ the flowers you ordered. And nothing is too edgy for  _ our  _ Virginia,” he said. Deceit gazed very sappily at Remus. 

“Um, sire, can you stop gazing very sappily at me? It’s making me rather uncomfortable,” Remus lied. He was in fact very comfortable. And also sappy. 

A page scurried in, breaking Deceit from his concentration on the finer angles of Remus’s face. 

“Um, sire, it’s three o’ clock and the guests have arrived. Shall I direct them in?” 

“One moment,” Deceit ordered. “Remus, give me a boost.” He stepped onto Remus’s hands and climbed onto the throne, reclining imperiously. “ _ Now _ you may direct them in.”

A loud and annoying fanfare sounded. The heavy oak doors swung open. A crowd of people filed into the ballroom. The assorted guests formed a tidy but yet somehow disorganized line, much like the lines for the very popular It’s A Smalle Worlde ride at the new Walt Gisney Worlde that had just opened. The line moved steadily as each person went up to the throne to bow or curtsey or mention respectfully that gender wasn’t real and they weren’t expected to do something fancy for Deceit. 

Soon the crowd abated, and Princess Virginia was led into the ballroom with a large adoring retinue. She was given her very own mini-throne that looked very tastefully like Deceit’s throne, but with a clever booby trap so if anyone who was not Virginia sat in it, they would be forcibly ejected into a moat with a lot of hungry piranhas. Crocodiles were so passé, after all.

After another obnoxious fanfare and a lot of shimmering light and sparkles, the fairies entered.

“Welcome!” King Deceit said. “Please bestow your gifts upon the princess! Cash and checks  _ are  _ allowed! One of the fairies cleared her throat. 

“ _ I  _ shall go first,” she said, and waved her wand. A hush fell upon the crowd as a beam of shining golden light illuminated the princess’s chair, known to drama gays as a  _ spotlight. _ “Sweet princess, I give you the gift of  _ beauty.”  _ Everyone looked expectantly at the child. Nothing had changed. The fairy cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, there’s only so much magic can  _ do _ ,” she winced. “But I know a  _ fantastic  _ plastic surgeon!” She flounced to the back of the line. 

The next fairy stepped up. “I give you the gift of  _ grace.  _ You will  _ never  _ trip in high heels.” 

“The gift of song! Your vocals will be  _ almost  _ as good as Gerard Way!”

“Wait, why not  _ as good as? _ ” Deceit asked.

The fairy patted his cheek condescendingly. “Sweetie, no one has better vocals than Gerard Way.”

“I give you the gift of dance! The princess will be  _ especially  _ skilled at interpretive dance and jazz!” 

“The gift of impeccable fashion choice! You’ll always be able to emulate the style of the greats such as the Kardashians and Edna Mode!”

The last two fairies in line were male. The first one was calm. The second one was visibly nervous. Logan stepped up. 

“I gift the princess with common sense,” he said without preamble, and stepped back into line. He pushed Patton forward. 

“Um, uh,” Patton said. “I gift the princess with, um….” He looked around the room. The assembled guests mostly looked confused. “Uhhhhh-”

“Get it over with, man,” Deceit cut him off.

“Why do all of these gifts apply to the requirements for the Miss Universe pageant?” Patton asked. “Because beauty, grace, song? No?”

The other fairies glared at him.

“Okay, um, I gift her the ability to cry on cue?” 

“No!” Deceit snapped. 

“The ability to answer any question in a way that doesn’t annoy Republicans or white people?” 

“NO!” Advisor Remus yelled.

“Being able to do a sponsored interview in five minutes or less?”

The fairies glared at him. Patton was getting desperate. 

“The gift of  _ purple hair! _ ” He snapped his wand, and a shower of sparks rained down on Virginia. Her hair turned a lovely shade of violet. 

“Why would you do that?!” Logan shrieked. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me!” Patton cried. The guests gasped in horror. The fairies jumped back, recoiling. Remus groaned. Deceit beamed. 

“I love it! It’s fun, classy, and eliminates the need to dye it!”

“Thank God,” Patton whispered, slinking back into line. Then a lot of completely unpredictable  _ by which I mean completely predictable, _ but also completely preventable circumstances happened.

The doors slammed open with an accompanying burst of lightning, even though it was totally  _ not  _ lightning season, and the royal astrologer had never yet been wrong in a prediction. The guillotine was getting dusty. Deceit figured it might be time to pop it out of storage and give it a go. 

“GURLS! I am, like, so completely annoyed!” Remy announced, sounding not in the least annoyed. “You did  _ not  _ invite me. And I give such good gifts too! Like Hot Topique gift cards.”

“Ooh,” whispered Remus, “Damn. I like that shoppe.” 

“Shut up,” Deceit whispered back. “Can’t you see we’re being menaced?” 

The entire kingdom was staring at them. 

“My OTP,” several people whispered, surreptitiously taking pictures for their adviser x king tumblrs.

Remy cleared their throat. “So anyway, I’m kinda pissed, so I was thinking like a curse! But like, only for the kid. See, aren’t I nice?”

“Oh, that is very cash money of you,” Deceit said, before realizing he should be more upset. “I mean, no! Guards, get him!”

“Them!”

“Oh gosh, I am so sorry,” Deceit apologized. “Guards, get them!”

Remy dramatically pointed their finger at Virginia, who was at that point biting her nurses, who had put her in a dress. Dresses, at that point, were a very non gendered thing, but still. Virginia had a right to be annoyed. “I curse you to...lose your voice? No, it’s been done. Maybe...sleep! Yes! Sleep! For a while! You’re gonna be the most well-rested bitch in this kingdom, I swear. Let’s say, a hundred years?” 

They scratched their chin. “An auspicious date...hmm, the nineteenth birthday… at sunrise. No, sunset!”

“Why nineteen?” Deceit interjected. 

“Nineteen is a cool number, and by then she’ll have a whole year to enjoy financial freedom and her Starrbuckes gold card before having everyone and everything she loves brutally ripped away!” 

Remy tried for an evil laugh, but all that came out was a mildly demented chuckle. They swept out. How  _ embarrassing. _


	3. Obama means family....and some mild war crimes

_ “Noooooo!” _ Deceit screeched. “What am I going to do? She’s completely unprotected now! And it’s all my fault! This family has been  _ torn apaaaart….”  _ he sobbed. Remus patted his shoulder consolingly. “Obama means  _ family,”  _ Deceit wept. 

“Sire, it’s actually  _ Ohana  _ means family,” Remus tactfully interjected. Deceit raised anguished eyes to him. 

“Silence, Remus! Can you not see I am in  _ mourning?”  _ He scrubbed vainly at tear-streaked cheeks. “I am soon going to have the only thing I’ve ever loved torn away!”

“If I may, sire, isn’t your heart three sizes too small? Are you even capable of love?  _ But,  _ we could take preventative measures?”

“My God, Remus! Haven’t you read a single Greek myth? Literally every parent who tries to protect their kid from a prophecy  _ dies,  _ and I don’t like the kid  _ that  _ much.”

“You just said...never mind.”

“Your majesty? If you’re willing, we have a solution.” Logan cleared his throat. 

“Yes, what is it?” Deceit snapped. Then he realized everyone was staring conspicuously at him while trying not to look like they were staring conspicuously at him. “All of you! Leave! Except you two!” Grumbling, the crowd filed out, filtering out the door and out the castle. Only Logan and Patton remained. 

“I’m going to let Patton explain this one,” Logan said, stepping aside. 

“Okay, um, Your Royal Highness, we are willing to take the girl. We can hide her in a very nice cottage in the woods and we will pose as her parents until  _ after  _ her 19th birthday, at which point we will bring her back, like, to, reclaim her throne or whatever.” Patton looked at Deceit expectantly. 

“That’s actually a really great idea. It’s not preventative, but it’s also not ignoring the problem.” Deceit mulled it over. “Yeah, let’s do that. Children are much more manageable as teens, anyway, and I won’t be the one dealing with the hormonal teenager.” 

Remus nodded assent. 

“Okay!” Patton clapped his hands together. “We’ll take the kid!” The nurse brought Virginia to them. “Awwwww,” Patton cooed. He picked up the little girl. She promptly sank her creepily elongated canines into his hand. “Ow!” he screamed. 

“It’s fine as long as it didn’t break the skin,” Deceit told him. 

“It broke the skin,” Patton whimpered. “Does this look infected to you?”

“Just go.” Deceit waved a hand languorously. “You’re breaking my heart,” he said, not looking particularly heartbroken. 

“Okayyyy,” Patton said uncertainly. He, Logan and Virginia exited the castle to enter the next act of their shared lives.

What Remy had forgotten to mention was that all curses had to have an antidote, as specified by the Geneva Convention, and they also couldn’t affect anyone other than the recipient. Remy usually stuck to these rules to avoid violating said Geneva Convention and committing war crimes, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. So when the mildly evildoer sauntered back into their lair, they were hit by a wave of  _ emotions.  _

“Ah!” Remy clutched their chest dramatically. “Doctor! I require your immediate attention!” Dr. Picani stalked out of the shadows. Remy screamed. “Emile! Don’t do that! Only  _ I  _ am allowed to stalk out of the shadows! Do you want to give me a heart attack?”

“So sorry,” Emile said, not sounding sorry at all. “What did you need?”

“Oh, right,” Remy remembered. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“What now?”

“There’s this intense feeling in my gut, except it’s higher up. Kind of like when I drink too much coffee, except I feel sad,” Remy explained. Emile rolled his eyes.

“That’s guilt. I  _ told  _ you not to curse that kid, and look what happened. You never listen to me.”

“I listen to you,” Remy said, insulted. 

“The point is, Remy, you shouldn’t have done that. We’re evil. That curse was, at best, ill intent. Have you ever considered we are  _ trying  _ to be the bad guy here?”

“Well maybe I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore!” Emile gasped. Remy gasped. “Wait, why am I gasping? I said that.”

“Remy, do we need to have a chat?”

“NO, Emile. I need to talk.” Remy snapped their fingers. “Emile, when I was a young boy, my father took-”

“Me into the city?”

“Silence, Emile!  _ As I was saying. _ Ahem. My father took me to a birthday party. And I was unfortunately very late, and not even in the fashionable way. So by the time I got there, it was over. I vowed then that I would have my  _ revange, _ and I did! I sent them a nice pinata which was filled with angry wasps. And that was what caused me to be evil. So what I’m saying here, Emile, is that society made me into this. I don’t even like society! So perhaps we should work on reforming ourselves.”

“You’re evil because you were late to a birthday party,” Emile said flatly.

“Yes, exactly, my dear Emile,” Remy told him.

“Also, it’s pronounced  _ revenge,  _ and it’s a dish best served cold.”

“But it can be easily reheated in the microwave of evil!”

“Well, I think your warranty’s about to expire.”

“Maybe I got an extended warranty!” Remy huffed. 

“Okay, Remy,” Emile sighed. “We can work on reform. Hand out bread baskets to the hags or something.”

“Excuse me! Have you even  _ seen  _ the hag in the town square? Every day she claims she’s starving!”

“Exactly,” Emile said.

“The hag in the town square is  _ fat,”  _ Remy hissed.

“Well then what do you want to do?”

“I want to find that kid and apologize. I can’t undo the curse, but luckily the antidote is a simple spell but quite unbreakable.” Remy left the room with a no-longer-evil sweep of their cloak.


	4. Oh My God, My Crofters Jam, And A Lot Of Angry Peasants

Logan, Patton, and Virginia weren’t doing as well as Remy. So far the child had ripped all the dresses in the wardrobe, hidden in the closet for seven hours, and somehow driven off every animal within a mile of them with her demonic screeching. Patton was currently hiding behind the couch and shaking.

“Logan, I can’t take it,” he whimpered. “I’m not ready to take on parenthood anymore. This is too much emotional stress.”

Logan shrugged. “This was your idea,” he pointed out. “Where is the kid, anyway?”

“I have no idea,” Patton said honestly. “I’ll go look.” He trotted off into the kitchen. A moment later there was a horrendous scream. “OH MY GOD, I’VE KILLED PRINCESS VIRGINIA!”

Logan burst into the room at a dead run. Virginia was laying flat on the floor with her face and stomach covered in sticky red goo. 

“She’s not dead, Patton,” Logan said. Patton sighed with relief. “OH MY GOD, MY CROFTERS JAM!” Logan screamed. Virginia sat up and smiled smugly at them. The entire front of her was covered in sticky red jam. 

“Well, at least we won’t need to feed her for a couple days,” Patton said hopefully.

“Not the point, Patton,” Logan groaned. He was also having second thoughts. 

Deceit and Remus were not having any second thoughts. Deceit was having no thoughts, because he was asleep. On the throne. During petitioning hours.

A lot of serfs and fiefs and the like gathered every Tuesday to complain to the king about their assorted problems. The current problem was between two men. One man, a farmer, was convinced that his neighbor, a shepherd, had stolen his cow. The shepherd denied it, so they took their case to the king. The king was asleep, however, so this posed a problem. Luckily, Advisor Remus was also in attendance.

“I don’t see the problem?” he asked. “Just cut the cow in half!”

“Thank you, milord.” The shepherd bowed himself out. The farmer followed, albeit very sullenly.

The next problem was between two women, one of which thought that the other had stolen her child because the first ‘borrowed’ some lettuce from the other’s garden. Upon hearing Remus’s solution to the previous problem, they both left in mutual agreement, which was wise, and very lucky for the child in question. After the petitioners had all gone home in various states of confusion and misguided anger, Deceit cracked open an eye.

“ _ Are they gone yet?” _ he stage-whispered. 

“You were awake this whole time?” Remus said in disbelief. 

“Of course, Lord Advisor, I’m not an  _ idiot!” _

Remus threw up his hands and stormed out. “Hey wait, are you actually mad at me?” Deceit called. “I’m sorry!” He wasn’t, but operating under the delusion that he was, often made people feel better about themselves. For all his faults, he was an  _ okay _ king. Unfortunately,  _ okay  _ wasn’t good enough for the assorted nobles and vassals, which had decided that the time was ripe for a revolution. It was going to be a carefully planned one. The plan wasn’t supposed to go into effect for another fifteen years. There was plenty of time for something interesting to happen. 

Three years passed relatively quickly, in which Remy and Emile sold their evil lair to a young woman who seemed altogether too interested in Dalmatian puppies. 

“The furries are taking over society,” Emile mentioned to Remy. 

“What’s wrong with furries? They’re lovely people that like wearing animal costumes and pay thirty-five dollars for my art!” Remy defended. 

“You sell art to furries,” Emile said. 

“It’s a lucrative business that is quickly expanding, Emile! Don’t be so narrow-minded!” 

One relatively nice June day, Remy decided to go for a nice stroll in the woods with some coffee. Emile declined the invitation because he had to work on his thesis for his masters. So Remy went alone, and they were about ten miles deep in when they came across an annoyingly picturesque cottage. 

“Oh my GOD,” Remy whispered. “The aesthetic.”

Being Remy, they mostly ignored it and kept walking.

Then they heard a child’s voice. It was directed at a group of rabbits. Remy rounded a corner and saw a clearing surrounded by trees, and there was a family of rabbits sitting in front of a grubby little girl with long curly hair.

“Hey, kid,” Remy said, hurrying up. “Don’t touch those things! You know they carry diseases, right?” The rabbits hopped away, looking affronted. 

“Leave me alone,” said the girl.

“ _ Okay _ ,” Remy said, affronted. “Don’t blame me when you get rabies.” They started to leave

“What’s rabies?” 

Remy turned around, surprised. “Uhhhh, rabies are like a gross… disease...and you foam at the mouth I think? I am  _ very  _ unclear on that.” 

“Okay.” The child wiped her nose. “Wanna talk to me?” 

“Gurl! Absolutely!” Remy chirped. “First of all. This is  _ coffee.  _ Try it. It’ll change your life.” 

The little girl wrinkled her nose. “Don’t call me that.” 

“What?” Remy was confused. 

“ _ Girl,”  _ she said. 

“Oh my GOD, I am  _ so  _ sorry!” Realization hit Remy, much like a sledgehammer. “You got a name?”

“Virginia,” the kid said. 

“No, no, that won’t do,” Remy said, shaking their head. “Something simple! Classy! Masculine! What about Virgil?” 

“I like it,” said the child. Remy stuck out their hand. “ _ Fantastic  _ to meet you, Virgil. You may call me Remy. Now try the coffee.” Virgil took a sip of extra caffeinated espresso. His face squinched up. “No? That’s okay, I’ll find you something better. Later, kid.” Remy strolled back the way they came, whistling. They were forgetting something, definitely. They just had no idea what.


	5. This "Engagement" is a Flex Arrangement

When Logan and Patton got home from Safewaye they were slightly worried for two reasons. One was that the market was out of lemons, which upset Patton, who had been planning to make lemon-raspberry cupcakes, and two, that the house was completely silent. 

“Virginia?” Logan called.

“Up here!” Virginia yelled back. Patton and Logan burst into the bathroom. Patton screamed. Logan gasped. Virginia was sitting in a pile of hair that she was hacking off with scissors. 

“Nooooo!” Patton shrieked. “Your hair!” Virginia’s hair was short in front, curling over her ears, and choppy and slightly longer in the back. Her bangs now covered her eyes almost completely. “Why would you do that, Virginia?” 

“I don’t want you to call me that anymore,” he announced. “I’m Virgil now.” 

“That’s a nice name,” Logan said.

“I have a son!” Patton clapped his hands gleefully. “I’m so proud!” 

So Logan, Patton, and Virgil went downstairs to go make some celebratory cookies.(Patton’s idea.)

And for the next ten years, everything was mostly perfect. 

Remus had been casually skulking around the castle for quite some time now. Deceit was nowhere to be found. Remus figured that meant he was probably in the royal kitchens sampling that night’s dessert. He decided to go read a book, or maybe two or three. Remus headed to the castle library, but he would never get to read the latest smash hit from that new Danish author, Hans something-or-other, because at that moment he was met with a series of unfortunate events. When Remus approached the library he was horrified to see that there was an interloper already in there. 

“Welcome!” Remy cried, throwing open their arms. “Hug?” Remus glared at him. “No? Okay. Now we get down to tacks of brass.” 

It was then that Remus realized they weren’t alone. There was a man in the room. He was wearing a rather crumpled cloak and a  _ not at all tastefully askew  _ crown. It was just askew. “Lord Advisor Remus,” Remy announced grandly. “Let me introduce you to the king of XXXXXXX. This is the man of the hour, and I brought him here to make some arrangements. But we’re still waiting on someone.” 

Deceit popped his head in. “Oh hey, Remus, one of the maids said you were in here-oh, you’re busy.” 

“GURL!” Remy said. “Come on in! We were just talking about you! All good things, all good things.” 

Deceit came in. “So what’s up?”

“Well, my good sirs,” Remy said. “It’s come to my attention that I made an unfortunate mistake several years ago.”

“You mean cursing his kid?” Remus said.

“ _ Our child, Remus, _ ” Deceit whispered. 

“Yes, well. The past is in the past,” Remy breezed on. “So anyway, I can’t undo the curse, but I can make some arrangements! The curse can be broken after one hundred years with a first kiss!”

“I thought it was a true love’s kiss,” Deceit said, confused. 

“Yes, well, so did I, but the rules were re-evaluated after that one kid in the kingdom next door woke up that cursed boy by accident because he was kissing the homies goodnight.” 

“So why am I here?” said the other king. 

“You’re here, my good man, to make a treaty. 82 years after the curse is activated, there will be a son born in your kingdom that will inherit the throne. Do not ask me how I know this. I want you to write a treaty automatically betrothing that prince to Princess Virginia. When the prince turns 18, Virginia will have slept for a hundred years and will be ready to awaken!” 

Remy clapped his hands. “It’s the perfect solution! Your children will marry, your kingdoms unite!” 

“Let’s do it,” Deceit said. He held out his hand. The other king shook it. 

“How about a toast?” Remy suggested. “No? Goodbye then, underlings.” He swept out regally. 

Deceit grumbled. “That’s not fair. No one’s allowed to sweep out regally except me.” He stomped out imperiously. His high heels made a nice accompanying clicking sound. 


	6. Apparently, Logan Murdered Someone

When Virgil was eighteen, two very important things happened. The first was that Remy came back to visit him. 

“VIRGIL!” Remy shrieked. “How is my favorite emo?”

“Better without your presence.”

Remy melodramatically pressed a hand to their chest. “So much hatred….it’s almost like I  _ didn’t  _ curse you and force you to sleep for a hundred years!” 

“That  _ was _ you,” Virgil deadpanned.

“Oh yeah, I forgot I never told you. But it’s fine! You young ones are always tired anyway. Think of it as me doing you a favor,” Remy said. 

“Not really, but okay,” Virgil agreed. 

“I brought you something!” Remy whipped out a drink.

“Not coffee,” Virgil said.

“NO! This is the nectar of the GODS, dear boy.  _ Chai tea. _ ” They proffered the drink to Virgil, who took it. “Walk with me.”

Remy and Virgil strolled through the woods, Remy absently humming one of Mozart’s newest hits. Virgil sipped his drink.

“This is really good.”

“Told you so,” Remy said smugly. Virgil struggled not to smile. “So, kid, any plans for the next few years?”

“Not really, no.” 

“That’s a shame,” Remy said. “I would recommend you some jobs. Working at  _ Starrbuckes _ would be nice. I need an insider who can give me free drinks.”

“My dads won’t let me go into the city. They’re kind of overprotective.” 

“Ah,” Remy sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I only have about a year left, anyway. I don’t really wanna get too involved with anything.” Remy grimaced. “It’s not your fault, Remy,” Virgil said. “You were angry. I get it.”

“But that’s the thing,” Remy pointed out. “I wasn’t angry.”

“So why’d you curse me?”

“I honestly don’t know, Virgil. Sometimes...sometimes I still feel like the last kid at the birthday party.” Remy frowned. Then they beamed. “I have great news!”

“Oh no,” Virgil said warily. 

“It’s good news, I swear. You’re now betrothed to a prince!”

“Do I know him?”

“He hasn’t even been born yet, idiot boy,” Remy sighed. “But when he turns eighteen, he can wake you up!” 

“Why is that good? And why are you telling me?”

“You can’t marry a man you just met!” Remy cried, exasperated. “Do you want to know this  _ now  _ or in a hundred years?”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “A prince. That should be interesting.” He smirked.

When Virgil got back to the cottage, Logan and Patton were in the kitchen making dinner. 

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted him. “Did you have a nice walk?”

“It was fine.” Patton looked closely at Virgil.

“Hey, kiddo, is everything okay?” he asked, handing Virgil an organic, free range strawberry smoothie that he had just spent half an hour blending.

“Patton, Virgil is clearly experiencing the hormone imbalances that come with being a teenager,” Logan informed them.

“No, that’s not it,” Virgil said. “I wanted to know...why you guys live here, in the forest, and not in the city.”

Patton looked at Logan, panicked. He tried to make his facial expression say  _ Make something up, Logan, you’re the smart one here! _

Logan interpreted this as  _ I’ll make something up, Logan, don’t worry.  _

When Patton realized Logan was not going to bail him out, he panicked. 

“Uh, um, Logan, uhh-” Logan stared at him pointedly. Virgil looked confused. “Logan….er..” Patton was growing exponentially more desperate, and spit out the first thing that came to mind. Virgil took a sip of strawberry smoothie.

“LOGAN MURDERED SOMEONE!” Patton screamed. Virgil spit out his smoothie.

“WHAT?”

“NO!” This from Logan. Virgil and Patton stared at him. “I mean, yes, I  _ murdered someone-” _ here he glared daggers at Patton, who smiled guilelessly, “-but that’s beside the point.”

“Don’t be like your father, Virgil,” Patton said.

“But you’re  _ also my father,”  _ Virgil said. 

“Good point,” Patton conceded. “You may be like me. I am an  _ excellent  _ role model.”

Virgil finished his smoothie, significantly more confused than he had been before.


	7. Remus Explains Communism to a Lot of Angry People

Deceit and Remus, at that point, were quelling a rebellion. Early in the morning, a mob of angry people had stormed the castle and were flocking around the moat. The drawbridge had not yet been opened, so the assorted rebels were unsure as to how exactly to get  _ inside  _ the castle.

“Um, sire, there are a lot of assorted rebels unsure as to how exactly to get inside the castle,” Remus mentioned. 

“Remus! Please. I haven’t even had my morning coffee. And stop calling me sire, we’ve been married for twelve years.”

“Old habits. Sorry. And by the way, you don’t drink coffee.”

“Oh, I  _ know,  _ Remus.” At that moment an aproned maid pushing a cart came into the room. Deceit picked up the silver spoon filled with delicious-smelling brown liquid and immediately licked it. Then he screeched in horror and started frantically scrubbing his tongue. 

“What is that?” Remus stared at him.

“Vanilla extract,” Deceit croaked. “It smells so nice...but the taste betrays me. Every time. On the bright side, I’m fully awake now!” He grabbed a cream puff from the tray.

“‘Cause I’m Mr. Brightside…” Remus sang quietly.  
“Remus!” Deceit snapped. “I can hear you!” 

“So what do you want me to do about the rebels?” Remus asked, cleverly changing the subject away from himself.

“Oh, just go talk to them,” Deceit said, falling for the clever subject change. He stuck another pastry in his mouth. “These are very nice cream puffs,” he said appreciatively.

“Save one for me,” Remus said, exiting. Deceit cackled and stuffed the last three in his mouth immediately.

Remus walked out onto the now lowered drawbridge. 

“Hey guys.” He waved. “What’s up?” 

“We want justice! Death to the king!” The mob screamed and stamped their feet.

“Okay, I’m not really sure where to go with that!”

One of the farmers holding a pitchfork stepped forward. “Lord Remus, you are the king’s advisor, and you are very wise in the ways of the kingdom-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Remus cut him off, “What’s all this about?”

“Well, sire, the nobles recruited us to depose the king. They promised we could turn the kingdom into a place where no one was in charge, and everyone had the same land, wages, housing, and food.”

“That’s just communism, though,” Remus said. “That won’t work.”

The farmer puffed out his chest, insulted. “What d’you mean it won’t work?”

“Well, to have a communistic society, someone has to be in charge of handing out land, wages, housing, and food, which defeats the purpose of communism.”

“I’m confused,” said the farmer. “How does that defeat the purpose?”  
“Communism means no one is in charge and everyone is equal. But in order to make sure everything’s equal, someone has to be in charge.”

“I get it,” said the farmer. “That was a nice explanation.”

“So all of you are angry and rebelling because you want to get rid of the king and establish a dictator.  _ Which would just be another king. _ ” 

“Oh,” the farmer said. “I did not think of that.” Several people drifted back the way they had come, halving the number of people.

“One last thing. You said the nobles recruited you?”

“Yes, Lord Advisor.”

“They want you to do their dirty work for them.” Remus raised his voice. “People! The nobles are using you! They want to make sure their hands stay clean by letting you pave the way, then they’ll roll in and take over everything. Is that what you want?”

There were a lot of scattered nos. “I will personally make sure that everyone here gets a small sum of money and an extra bag of grain. There will be a sign-up sheet Monday morning.” Remus turned to go back into the castle. He rubbed his forehead. Not even 10AM and he had a headache. 


	8. Man Me A Sand-or Virgil Finally Goes To Sleep, Thank God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is self-explanatory. Remy puts everyone to sleep for the next hundred years, and there's a lot of song lyrics in this chapter-I'm sorry. LMAO I hate this chapter, but then again I hate myself and my writing. Anyway I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roast me if you see a typo, mortals

Virgil was bored. It was only November, and the leaves had fallen, but nothing else had changed. And he wasn’t sure of the exact date of his birthday, but it was this year, meaning that he had at most four weeks. Logan and Patton had been acting increasingly more subdued. He figured it was because he was going to have to take a quick hundred-year nap and by the time he woke up, they would be dead. 

He wasn’t really sure why, but he wasn’t sad. He had been sad for a long time, and then one day he woke up and didn’t really mind anymore. He would miss them, certainly, but they would finally have the house to themselves. Every time he went outside, they had said  _ goodbye _ and  _ we love you _ like he was never coming back. Patton had hugged him with tears dripping down his face. 

So on Virgil’s last day, although he didn’t know it, he was sitting on a fallen log that was spanning a small creek. There was a small crack as a tiny tear in the fabric of the universe rent, and Remy appeared. 

“Long time no see!” Remy enthused. Virgil nodded. “Why the long face?” Remy handed him a chai. 

“I have no idea, Remy, maybe it’s the fact that I could randomly pop off to sleep and wake up in a hundred years  _ any day now _ and it’s your fault?”

“Ouch,” Remy winced. “Yeah, I thought you might be a little annoyed.”

“No kidding.” Virgil resumed his sullen staring at the log. 

“You know, Virgil,” Remy said slyly, “I could just activate it early? No more waiting in suspense, you can just get it over with? Yes?”

Virgil bolted upright. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Remy said.

“Can you do it now? Right now?”

“Okay, I did not expect you to agree that fast. Why the rush?”

“Today was a good day. I would hate to have to sleep on a sour note.”

“Ah.” Remy nodded sagely. “Very wise.”

“So are you going to or not?” Virgil asked impatiently.

“Yes, but maybe get off the log. I would hate to have you fall in and drown in your sleep.”

Virgil nodded. He jumped down from the log and went to go sit down by a tree. Remy followed. Virgil leaned against the tree and waited. Remy snapped his fingers. 

“What are you doing?”

“Music. It sets the right atmosphere.” A song started playing. “Ooh, I like this one.”

“What song is it?”

_ “Mr. Sandman!”  _ Remy sang.  _ “Man me a sand!” _

“Can you play something else,  _ please _ ,” Virgil begged. “This is my death, here.”

Remy gasped. “Excuse me! You are  _ sleeping!”  _

“Semantics,” Virgil muttered. 

_ “Fine.”  _ Remy snapped their fingers again. The beat dropped. 

_ “It’s gonna be a space jam!” _

Remy pressed their forefinger to Virgil’s forehead. “ _ Sleep.” _

_ “Jam! Slam!” _

Virgil’s head lolled. His eyes closed, and his breathing evened. He slid to the ground. Remy tapped the tree branches. They immediately began to grow around Virgil, supporting him. Vines and bushes grew tall, closing off the clearing, and a twist of roses arched around Virgil’s prone form. The fallen leaves grew a thick carpet on the floor until no green poked through. Soon the entire place was overgrown, and Virgil looked like he’d been there for days. Remy disappeared. 

_ “It’s gonna be a space jam…” _

Logan and Patton had been waiting for hours for Virgil to come home. They were on the couch in the front room, sitting. 

“GURLS!” Remy announced. “I hope you didn’t have any weekend plans, because y’all are about to get the best sleep of your lives!”

“Wait, what?” Patton never had the chance to finish his sentence, because at that point Remy flicked their hand, and Logan and Patton fell instantly asleep. Then Remy left. They had one more stop to make, and then they could finally relax.

Remy burst into the castle with a lot of dramatic flair. Since they had come through the window, there was the nice added effect of a lot of shattering glass. 

“AAAAHHHH!” Deceit screamed.

“Sorry about that,” Remy said cheerfully. “How about taking a nice nap?”  
“Huh?” 

Remy smacked Deceit’s forehead, and he collapsed off his throne, asleep. 

“HEY!” Remus burst in. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Quick, tell me now,” Remy said. “Do you want to sleep for a hundred years or do you want to just keep going as you are now?”

“Is he asleep?” Remus pointed at Deceit.

“For the next hundred years, yes. Will you be joining him?”

“Who’s going to be king?”  
Remy leaned in close, grinning. “ _Me,_ of course.”

Remus blanched. He never had the chance to respond, obviously, because then he was asleep.

Remy strutted out the door, humming.

_ “Oh, I just can’t wait to be king!” _


	9. Emile Discovers The Secret Of Immortality and We Finally Meet Roman

Remy sashayed into their formerly evil lair. 

“Emile!” they called. “I have a surprise!”

“I have a surprise too,” Emile yelled back.

“Ooh, I bet mine is bigger!”  
“ _I seriously doubt it!”_

“Okay, Emile, what is it?”

“I have found the secret of immortality!” Emile dramatically posed. He was holding a small, rather grubby looking ball.

“What is it?” Remy peered at it. “One of those ball-machine things with the insidious scheme that you must put in a coin and you never even get the ball you want?”

“No, Remy. It’s actually filled with an elixir that when you drink it daily, extends your lifespan for several more years. It’s my finest work.”

Remy gasped in horror. “Why would you do that?”

“What?”

“We’re far too  _ early,  _ Emile! Nicolas Flamel hasn’t even been born yet!” Remy panicked.

“Eh. Semantics. What was your surprise, incidentally?”

“Oh. I’m the king now.”

“Of where?”  
“Here, Emile,” Remy explained. “This kingdom. I also need a royal boyfriend.”

“Does this mean you’re breaking up with me?”

“WHAT? No, Emile!” Remy screeched. “I meant  _ you!”  _

“Oh. That makes more sense,” Emile nodded. 

“Pack your stuff! We’re moving in tomorrow, and I want to have plenty of time to get adjusted.” Remy grinned evilly. 

Almost exactly a hundred years later, the council had just adjourned in the kingdom west of Remy’s. There were twelve members. Eleven of them were randomly selected citizens, and the last one was a prince. 

The latter was currently running as fast as he could away from the palace kitchens, because he had just swiped four Key lime cupcakes that were meant for dessert. Prince Roman jumped over the low wall that gated in the palace gardens and kept sprinting. If he was lucky, the guards wouldn’t find him until nightfall. Not that he would be in trouble for stealing the cupcakes. No one minded about that. It was that he would miss the arranged meetings his father had set up. 

A lot of potential people with influence in the kingdom had pushed their sons, daughters, and children toward Roman. He was going to be expected to get married, and soon. It wasn’t every day a prince was eighteen and ready to be wed. You had to be prepared for such events. Which was why Roman was making his escape, because as nice as the potential suitors were, he was waiting for the right one to come along. 

Roman crashed through the bushes that marked the border of the kingdom. He followed a densely wooded path farther into the forest, until the way back was unnavigable. No one would find him here, that was for sure. He leaned against a tree branch and ate one of his two remaining cupcakes. (Two had been lost in his flight from the palace. It was surprisingly hard to run as though you are trying to outrun your personal demons and still hold onto food.) It was still pretty good, although the icing was now slightly warm. Warm icing is terrible and will lose you a lot of points on Chopped because it slides everywhere and your presentation will be ruined. Roman didn’t mind. He had watched a lot of the Food Network and he thought that everything looked good. His favorite episode was the one where that intrepid chef had attempted to make a raspberry vinaigrette with fifteen seconds left on the clock. 

Roman was munching his last cupcake when he heard the haunting strains of the Haunted Mansion theme song. Naturally, he was curious. The bleached white human skulls stuck in the foliage were a nice added touch. He kept going, pushing aside vines and branches as he walked. Pretty soon he came upon a clearing, ringed by trees and a lot of really tall hedges. 

_ “Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize…” _

Roman was understandably annoyed. Why have a clearing if you’re just going to block it off?

Then he accidentally leaned on a weak part in the hedge. Branches snapped and leaves crunched as he fell through. He smacked his head on a rock and blacked out.

_ “So hurry back, hurry back, we would like your company…” _


	10. And Roman Enters Stage Right, Pursued By His Princely Responsibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to ZaraHunter for the chapter title inspiration! And not to be forgotten, MelodicallyAltruistic for commenting and being a Very Fantastic Human:) y'all are great

“Gurl! How dare you enter my personal clearing?” 

Roman blinked. There was an angry face in aviator sunglasses looming over him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I did not know that this was occupied,” Roman said.

“ _ Sure,  _ you didn’t! Just like you had no idea that there was a cursed prince just waiting to be woken up right here, huh, Mr. Wise Guy,” the person sniffed.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, but I would like whatever edibles you are on right now,” Roman told the person.

“What? I’m not on edibles…. _ although I wish I was because then this would actually be interesting.” _

“Ouch,” Roman said dryly. “I’ll be sure to grab a list of new and scintillating conversation topics on the way out.” He stood up, rubbing his head, which to be honest kind of hurt, which will happen when one gets knocked out for a while.

“Out?”  
“Yeah, I’m leaving. Did you actually expect me to hang around?”

“Yes, actually,” admitted the other person. “It gets boring after a while.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I know the hobo lifestyle is pretty solitary,” Roman commiserated.

“HOBO? How dare you! These are  _ artfully distressed  _ trousers!”

“I thought they were ripped because you didn’t have money to buy new ones,” Roman shrugged.

“My good sir, I paid extra for these holes. It’s the style. You of course, are  _ horrendously  _ behind the times. You may call me Remy.”

“So, Remy, why are you here if you’re not a hobo?” Roman asked. 

“Because, my dear boy, I am waiting for the imbecile behind me to wake up.”

“Who now?”

Remy pointed behind them. There were a lot of bushes.

“I only see a lot of bushes?” Roman was confused.

“NO, idiot boy, over  _ there.” _

Roman moved his head a few degrees over. “OH my God! Why is there a dead person!”  
“He’s not dead, just sleeping.”

“So wake him up!” Roman said.

“I can’t wake him up. You can wake him up.”

“Why me?”

“You’re a prince, are you not?”  
“Ye-es...how did you know that?” 

“That’s not important!” Remy snapped. “Go wake him up!”

Roman went over to the tree. He poked the guy in the chest. He still looked dead. His chest barely rose and fell, and there was only the faintest wisp of breath. Roman shook him.

“Wake up!”

Remy groaned. “No, you fool, have you not read a single fairy tale? Is that how your momma taught you to wake up cursed people?”

“You mean I have to kiss him?” Roman stared at Remy in dismay.

“No, you have to take him out to dinner--YES, you imbecile, you have to kiss him!”

“Oh.” Roman stared at the sleeping boy.

“What’s with all the hesitation? Are you straight? Can we fix that?”  
“Normally I take the people I kiss out for coffee, get to know stuff about them. Also, I am a bisexual.” 

“Ah.” Remy nodded sagely. “Yes, you have that chaotic aura about you. His name is Virgil. He is nineteen, the same age you are now. He’s depressingly emo, but you can train that out of him. The eyeliner is nonnegotiable. I’m sorry.”

“Now kiss him. I can provide atmosphere.”  
“Atmosphere?”

“Music!” Remy flicked their hand. 

_ “Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine…” _

Roman leaned over Virgil.

“WAIT!”  
“What now?”

“Are you in a relationship? I don’t want Virgil to get hurt.”

“No. Can you shut up for a minute? I thought you wanted me to hurry this up.”

“Apologies. Proceed.”

“AND TURN AROUND, IT’S AWKWARD WHEN YOU’RE STARING AT ME,” Roman called.

“Yes, yes, whatever, get on with it.” Remy disappeared.

For the third time in twenty minutes, Roman leaned over Virgil. His lashes fluttered with every breath he took. Roman gulped. This was nerve-wracking. He took a deep breath. 

_ “It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss…” _

He scrunched his eyes shut and pressed his lips to Virgil’s mouth. Virgil’s eyes flew open. 

“AAAAAAHHHHH!” He sat up and smacked his forehead into Roman’s. 

“AAAAAAHHHHH!” Roman screamed, toppling backwards. 

“Oh my God!” Virgil grabbed his arm right before Roman hit the ground. “I’m sorry!”

“I’m fine,” Roman muttered. He rubbed his forehead.

“Wait, never mind,” Virgil said. His eyes narrowed. “I hope you have a lawyer on speed dial, ‘cause that was assault, buddy!”

“You attacked me!” Roman yelled. “If anything,  _ you  _ assaulted  _ me _ when you smacked your head into my face!”

Virgil glared at him. “You kissed me and I did not even consent!”

“You were asleep!”

“Girls!” Remy interrupted. “We have a situation!”

“What?” they snapped simultaneously.

“The forest wants to kill us,” Remy said meekly. “Let’s leave now.”


	11. Coffins Are Nailed Shut and Caskets Have Hinged Lids, You Fools

Roman whipped around. The branches were in fact, lengthening into sinewy claws, and the hedge was studding itself with thorns. 

“What happened?” Virgil asked.  
“Oh, remember those skulls? This was the security measure, and we just overstayed our welcome.” 

A tree branch lunged for Roman. “RUN!” The three ran as fast as they could out of the clearing. Roman whipped out his sword, because all good princes have a pocket sword, just like they have a purse sword and a car sword. He started hacking at branches, slicing them out of the way. A thorn gashed his cheek, and he cried out, dropping the sword as blood wept from the cut. 

“Move!” Virgil shoved him out of the way and grabbed the fallen sword, slashing aside branches. Roman gazed dreamily at him.

“Aw, I’ve always wanted someone who can defend me.”

“Gangway!” Remy sprinted past him. “Wait, why am I running? I have magic powers!”

“What now?”

“ _ I have magic powers!”  _ Remy cackled and snapped his fingers, vanishing in a cleverly placed column of smoke.

“No, don’t leave!” Unfortunately, it was far too late. Remy had already evaporated, much like Roman’s inner happiness and plans for the future. Roman’s internal monologue was screaming. Something about the jaws of inescapable death.

He shoved aside the last of the branches and fell face-first on the ground, his cheek pressing into the soil. Virgil glared at him. 

“Move it, Princey.”  
“Nooooo,” Roman moaned. “Just leave me here to die.”

“Get up.” Virgil kicked him lightly in the stomach with the toe of his boot. Roman curled up in the fetal position.

“Urgh.” Roman sat up. “I’m gonna throw up. I don’t run.”

“Thought princes were supposed to be in shape,” Virgil smirked.

“The only running I do is short sprints from the kitchen windows to the forest,” Roman defended. “Now can we go before you insult me any further?”

“Thank you.”

They were just on the border to the kingdom, and in the distance Roman could see the castle. They started walking. 

“Want to play twenty questions?” Roman asked.  
“NO.”

“Bro, stop glaring dramatically at me. You’re gonna make me fall in love with you.”

“Please shut up.”

Deep, deep in the forest, in a small cottage overrun with cobwebs and ivy climbing up the walls, two people woke up.

“I feel refreshingly alive,” Patton said. His voice was croaky, most likely the result of disused voice cords, as happens when you are asleep for a century. As one does.

“Shockingly, I do not,” Logan muttered. “How long have we been out?”

“I have no idea.” Patton looked at the clock. It had stopped. “The last thing I remember is that person bursting through the door. Then it’s all a little fuzzy.”

“Likewise,” Logan nodded. “I wonder where Virgil is.” They went outside. Patton gaped at the vines and flowers climbing from the trellis onto the house.

“Logan, I’m starting to think it may have been a lot longer than we thought.”

“What if that was the hundred-year sleep?”

“In which case,” Patton nodded, “Virgil is awake. Most fairy tales need a kiss to wake them up, so he’s probably already at some fair maiden’s house.”

“That’s a problem,” Logan mused.

“What?”  
“He could be anywhere. We should go to the castle and see if the king can send out envoys to find him. Otherwise, we’ll be looking for a while.”

“Good idea, Lo!” Patton cheered. “Let’s go!” So Logan and Patton set off into the unknown.

Deceit and Remus were just waking up, as well. Deceit’s eyes popped open. Everything was dark.  _ Oh man,  _ he thought.  _ What if they buried me?”  _ He pushed above him. His hands found something solid. The lid swung open, and he sat up. 

“Neat,” he said. “A coffin.”

“Actually, sire, that’s a casket. Caskets have attached lids that are on hinges, and they swing open. Coffins are nailed shut, so the lid would pop completely off.”

“Did I  _ ask  _ you for your  _ opinion,  _ Remus?”

“No, but I’m helpfully giving it anyway.” 

“Okay then!” Deceit clapped his hands together. “Let’s rejoin the world!”

“Can you please find other clothes first? Those are kind of decomposing.”

“Remus, you’re right. Let’s do that. I’m also really hungry. Do you have any snacks about?”

“No, because unfortunately it didn’t occur to me that since we were sleeping for a century we would need snacks. Next time I’ll remember,” Remus muttered. Then he started up the stairs of the basement that the caskets had been stashed in. Deceit looked around and noted that there were a lot of other caskets besides theirs, all paired up. If you were to measure, you might take note of the fact that the caskets were exactly five feet apart from each other. Deceit went up the stairs. It was time to rejoin society. With snacks. 


	12. It's Too Late To Write In A Kickass Dragon, Oh Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. This is the final chapter, and I am actually feeling kind of sad. I got really attached to these characters :( and I hope you liked them too. This chapter is a little extra long, just for that final happiness. Even though I am finishing this work, I will be continuing to create on a03 with several other fics. My goal is to create a completed fairy tale story collection featuring the Sides. If you want any specific fics written with a fairy tale or soulmate AU in mind, please comment what you want-I want to write what people want to read! Thank you, and enjoy this last chapter! HAPPY PASSOVER, Y'ALL!   
> My other fanfictions include Breadcrumbs: A Sides Story  
> Down In New Orleans: A Sanders Sides Fairy Tale  
> It's About Time  
> and more will be added this coming week!!!!!!

Roman and Virgil were a few yards from the castle gates when there was a small pop. 

“GURLS! I’m back!”

“Leave,” Roman said.

“Oh, such alacrity!”

“Why are you back?” Virgil asked Remy.

“Moral support, boys. Moral support.”

“You have no morals,” Virgil pointed out.

“Good point. Onward!” Remy marched ahead of them, jacket billowing in the conveniently appearing wind. 

Roman and Virgil followed Remy into the castle. Twilight had nearly fallen, and the sky was at its gloaming point. 

Roman’s father was sitting on the throne, looking a tad more than irate.

“ROMAN! Where have you been? You’ve missed all your meetings!”

“That was the point,” Roman mumbled.

“What was that?”  
“Nothing, Dad.”

“And what’s with the scruffy emo and the hobo? Are we doing handouts now?”

“Actually, your majesty,” Remy interrupted, “this happens to be the boy your son is going to marry.” Virgil waved nervously.

The king laughed. “That’s a good one. Now what is he really doing here?”  
“Actually, Dad,” Roman said, with a panicked look at Virgil that meant _Go with the program!_ “That’s true. It was part of the treaty of the kingdoms made about eighty-one years ago. Ish.”

“I made that treaty,” Remy said helpfully. “It’s in the fine print!”  
“Well, even if that were true,” the king blustered, “You can’t marry a man you just met.”

“Why does everyone say that?” Remy asked. The king glared at them. “Sorry.”

“And furthermore, you have to marry royalty!”

“Luckily, Virgil fits the bill,” Remy said. “He’s the adopted son of the king.”

“Who’s the king?”  
Remy paled. “Ah….me. But I meant the king before me.”

“The king before you is dead.”

“Well, yes, but actually, no.”

At that moment the doors burst open. Deceit majestically entered, Remus trailing exactly seven centimeters behind him. 

“Hello, everyone!” Deceit waved like Queen Victoria, who had not been born and would not be for some time. Everyone was hiddenly impressed. “I’m here for my daughter!”

“Actually, it’s a he now,” Patton corrected as he entered, Logan in tow. “Oh, hi Virgil! We were just looking for you!”

“Why is my throne room so crowded all of a sudden? It’s starting to feel awfully stuffy,” the king grumbled. “Roman, get on with it.”

“He’s a prince and we are getting married, Dad!”

“No you’re not!”

“It’s not the fourteenth century anymore!”

“It isn’t?” This from Patton. Logan elbowed him.

“Yeah, Dad, wake up and smell the plague!” Remy snapped. “Move on, old man! Your time has passed!” 

“Am….am I the victim...of a microaggression?”

“Oh, I did not mean to do that….I lied! I completely did!” Remy cackled. 

“Remy, please. Have some decency,” Roman winced.

“I think not,” Remy said. “Decency is for the weak.”

“All of you, GET OUT!” the king screamed. “Especially you, Roman! You are no longer welcome in this kingdom!”

“Good, because he has his own!” Roman pointed to Virgil.

“LEAVE!”

They left. Very anticlimactically.

It had been three months. Most of Roman and Virgil’s exchanges went somewhat like this.

“Will you marry me  _ now?” _

_ “ _ NO!” At which point Virgil would slam the door in Roman’s face.

But Roman couldn’t help but feel optimistic. They’d done stuff. Gone out for coffee. To the library. Watched movies. Surely it would be only a matter of time before he wore Virgil down completely.

Roman was, at that point, outside in the garden, taking out his frustrations on a lot of soil. He smacked the soil with his spade, accidentally decapitating several roses.

“Whoa, careful there. What’d those flowers ever do to you?” Roman turned his head. Virgil was smirking at him, watching him attack the dirt.

“I hate roses,” Roman said. “After a lot of flowers attack you, you can’t ever feel the same way about them again.”

“Your relationship is doomed,” Virgil said. “My condolences.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I just have to get a bunch of these. Everyone wants fresh flowers for the day of, so I’m trying to hurry.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting dressed?” Virgil asked.

“I still have time.” Roman craned his neck to look at the clock. “Actually, scratch that.” Roman yanked a giant clump of flowers out of the ground, trailing roots. Virgil winced. “Here, put these in a vase. I’m gonna go get ready.” Roman sprinted inside, tracking dirt from the bottom of his shoes.

Two hours later, everyone was stationed. 

“PLACES, PEOPLE!” Remy screeched, shoving heads down into seats as they ran down the aisle. 

“Remy, calm down!” Patton grabbed their arm to slow them down. 

“NO! EVERYTHING HAS TO BE PERFECT!” Remy yanked their arm out of Patton’s grip and straightened their skirt. 

“Wait a minute, your tie is crumpled.” Patton said.

“OH MY GOD, MY TIE IS CRUMPLED! THE WEDDING IS CANCELED! EVERYONE GO HOME!” 

“Remy, you’re fine. Just go stand at the end of the carpet. Everything is fine,” Patton assured them. “We have five minutes, so  _ please move.” _

“Fine.” Remy sulked to the end of the aisle. Virgil handed them an espresso. Remy downed it, their expression immediately brightening about ten thousand megawatts. The music started, and everyone immediately froze in their respective positions. The members of the wedding party went down the aisle in a line. Roman followed them down the aisle, brushing dust off his lapels. The music increased in volume. The doors opened again and everyone craned their necks as the fiance came down the aisle. 

“Ahem.” The priest cleared her throat. “Queerly beloved, we are gathered here togay…”

The ceremony commenced. Roman grinned at Virgil, who was vainly trying to loosen his collar, yanking at his tie. He looked distinctly unhappy. Before Roman knew it, the ceremony was over. Remy sashayed down the aisle out the doors. Emile walked vaguely maliciously after him. Everything was perfect. For a while.

After the reception, Roman was leaning against the building in the cool twilight. Next to him, someone cleared their throat. 

“Nice wedding,” Virgil said. 

“Yep,” Roman said. “You didn’t look happy.”

“Weddings are scary,” Virgil muttered. 

“Okay. We can plan ours for Halloween,” Roman joked. For one second, Virgil looked outraged, then he grinned.

“Sure.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Aren’t you?”  
“Yes?”

“Great.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't forget to leave comments and kudos! Thank you, it means a lot to me and gives me the motivation to keep creating.


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